Seeing the Signs
by evgrrl09
Summary: Penelope encounters a woman who gives her some advice on how to approach a relationship with her best friend. That woman is none other than Tiffany Maxwell. Rated T for language. Morgan/Garcia. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**So one of my favorite movies is "The Silver Linings Playbook" and if you're friends with me on FB you'll know I also LOVE Jennifer Lawrence. My love for JLaw and my love Criminal Minds led me to create this little oneshot. I hope you enjoy! Please review!**

Penelope was tiredly sitting at the bar a block away from the team's hotel in Philadelphia. She rarely went along with the team on cases, but when she did she usually felt more taxed than ever. In every way she was grateful they weren't heading back until the next morning. But while most of the team was catching up on some sleep before they returned to Quantico, she was out getting a drink.

Where it was usually a case that made her feel down, it wasn't even related to the case. It had to do with Morgan, her best friend, her partner in crime. And it wasn't just Morgan, but it was Morgan's girlfriend. He was seeing Savannah. She was pleasant, she was smart, she was beautiful.

She was a lot of things that everyone, including Penelope, found to be wonderful.

Sipping her whiskey, she closed her eyes and let the amber liquid burn a path down her throat. Ever since Rossi had introduced her to Scotch when she was feeling low about Kevin, she'd turned to alcohol that would burn on the way down when she was having a bad day. For the longest time she pined after Kevin, thinking Derek was pointless to pursue, but in reality she should have said something about her feelings the moment Kevin left her because she refused to marry him.

It was too late now. The perfect reason to drink.

It was also her fault entirely. She could have said something to Morgan, she could have told him she loved him. She just…didn't.

"You look really fuckin' sad."

Penelope looked up, startled. Standing next to her was a young woman with dark brown, nearly black hair and piercing eyes. She was dressed in tight-fitting black clothing and was leaning against the bar, one hand on her hip. Her eyebrow arched and she repeated herself. "I _said_, you look really fuckin' sad."

"Er, yes," Penelope said uncomfortably. "I heard that." She bit her lip and picked up her glass. Looking down at the amber liquid, she sighed and set it back down, somehow not feeling the need for the burn just yet.

"So…are you gonna answer me?" the stranger asked. "About why you're so sad."

Turning to face the woman, Penelope cocked a brow. She wasn't getting a good read on her. There was something off about her that she couldn't quite figure out. Her family of FBI profilers would likely be able to understand her just fine, but she wouldn't get her. There was something slightly unsettling about the way she was looking at her, about the glint in her eyes.

"I don't even know your name," she said. "Why are you asking me about why I'm sad?"

The woman sniffed and sat down at the barstool next to Penelope. The two of them couldn't look more different; Penelope was in her usual bright clothing, her blonde hair down and wavy, while the strange woman had on nothing but black and her dark hair pulled up and in a sloppy bun. "You don't look like a woman who drinks whiskey," she said plainly. "At least not on a regular basis. Your face plainly tells me you're depressed, my guess is about a guy. And you also seem like a confident woman…because otherwise you wouldn't be wearing that stupid outfit."

"Lady, I don't even —"

"Face it," she interrupted. "You look like an ornate cupcake."

Penelope pursed her lips and downed the rest of her whiskey. Turning to the bar tender, she demanded angrily, "Another one." She was too pissed to worry about being nice. Who did this woman think she was? But then she decided: what the hell? She didn't have anyone to talk to. Why not a random stranger? "I'm Penelope. Penelope Garcia."

"And I'm Tiffany Maxwell," the other woman said. She faced the bartender and nodded to him. "I'll have what she's having."

After a few moments of silence between Tiffany and Penelope, the bartender handed over their drinks. Lifting her glass, Penelope looked over at her and said, "Cheers."

Tiffany nodded and clinked their glasses. They both took sips and then put their glasses back down. "So are you gonna tell me why you're so fuckin' sad?" she pressed.

Penelope groaned and took another sip of her drink. "You were right about there being a guy," she said. "But this isn't just a guy who means nothing to me and I mean nothing to either. He's my best friend." She paused. "I just — I messed up. For years I was dating a guy who I didn't really love. I was just…content with him. So when he asked me to marry him, I turned him down. I couldn't live a life with a man I didn't have anything but platonic love for. But I waited too long to tell Derek how I really felt. And now he as a girlfriend. An extremely smart, beautiful, _normal_ girlfriend who I'm pretty sure he might love." She leaned her elbows on the bar and sighed.

"Fuck her."

Her eyes grew wide. Looking towards Tiffany, she choked, "Huh?"

"_Fuck her_," Tiffany repeated. "Tell the guy how you feel. You both deserve it. And you know what? There's a fifty-fifty chance he'll reject you, but if he really is your best friend, he'll tell you the truth."

"Didn't you hear me? He's in love with his girlfriend."

Tiffany shook her head. "But maybe he's only dating her because you've not told him anything about how you feel. You just have to see the signs. If you look for them, you may just find that he loves you, too."

"You seriously think that I should just go up to him and tell him how I feel? No battle plan, no nothing? Just…tell him?"

"Yes."

Penelope stared at her drink and then turned back towards the woman who was offering her advice. "So, where the hell do you have experience with this? Have you ever had to do it? You know, tell a guy who's with someone else you love him? You sound like you have."

"I did. The guy I'm in love with was married, still in love with the woman who cheated on him, and obsessively trying to get back with her, even after she left him in a mental institution for four years." Noticing Penelope's rapidly blinking, shocked eyes, Tiffany added, "We're fucked up, me and Pat."

Cocking a brow, Penelope shook her head. "Did you get him? Did you tell him that you love him? Did he get over his ex-wife?"

"Yeah." Tiffany downed the rest of her drink and rose from her bar stool, throwing down a few dollar bills for her drink. "Well, go tell him. The second you tell him, things will be better."

As she started to walk away without another word. Penelope was now thoroughly confused by the behavior of this woman. She had just shared a drink with her, she gave her advice on life, and she explained her own situation, but now she was getting up and leaving without so much as a departing gesture. Sighing, Penelope called out, "Hey Tiffany!" She waited until the woman had turned around to add, "Thank you." She nodded to her and smiled brightly. "Really. I'll tell him."

A small, slight smile played up on Tiffany's lips and she said, "Sure." Then she left the bar, the bell twinkling on the way out.

Penelope finished off the remainder of her whiskey and paid the bartender. She needed to return to the hotel. There was something she had to do. And it was all thanks to a stranger telling her she needed to see the signs.

XXXXX

With her hands wringing together, Penelope stood outside her best friend's hotel room. She'd never been more nervous in her life. This was just something she had to do.

_You just have to see the signs._

Taking a deep breath, she murmured to herself, "Alright…here goes —"

"Baby Girl?"

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Penelope turned around and found her best friend, his clothing sweaty from having been in the hotel gym. He was using his shirt to wipe his forehead, and his chest was completely bare. Immediately her cheeks heated up and her mouth grew dry. She waved awkwardly. "Er, hi," she said anxiously.

He smiled his brilliant, pearly grin and replied, "Hi back. Is everything okay? You look a little…uncomfortable." He cocked one of his brows to her.

"Oh, well…" she said. She wasn't able to keep the stutter from her voice. "Could I come in?"

Nodding, he said, "Yeah. C'mon in." He used his key card to open the door and allowed her in first. She stepped in and flipped the light on. Blood was rushing through her ears and she licked her lips a few times in order to make her voice come out clear and not hoarse. She had to see the signs, just like Tiffany had told her. Hopefully there would be positive signs here. Maybe Derek really did love her. They were best friends, they knew everything about the other. It was highly possible he could love her. After a few seconds, he asked, "So, what's up, Baby?"

She turned around to face him and cleared her throat. "I — I wanted to say something," she said in a choked voice. "I think I've wanted to say it for a long time, but I've never really known how and for years I was dating Kevin and I never thought to think of anything but that. So after I rejected his proposal, I — well, I kind of got the idea that I should just…I don't know, play the field. So I dated. I date _a lot_. But there was always a reason that I never really fell for any of those guys. I mean, Sam was wonderful and what not, but he wasn't…what I…was looking for." Noticing that he had crossed his arms over his chest while she was speaking, she shook her head and rubbed her temples tiredly. "When I finally realized what I'd been denying for so many years, that one person —" Her voice trailed off for a moment and she was forced to avert her eyes. Facing him would be too difficult to do. "That person was gone…I'd missed my chance."

He tried to open his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand.

"No, please," she pleaded, finally meeting his eyes again. "Let me finish. So, while we were out here, I went to get a drink. And I met this woman, a complete stranger. She asked me why I was so fuckin' sad. I told her everything. Something that she told me was that I should talk to this guy and look for the signs. So…" Her voice choked off, and she forced her voice to work around the lump that had formed in her throat. "I'm here…looking for the signs."

Silence covered the space between them and their gazes held for several moments. Shock was very clearly covering Derek's face. He didn't say anything.

Sighing, she mumbled, "Oh, God! I'm so embarrassed. I'm so sorry. I'll just being going."

She started for the door, but was grabbed by the hand before she reached it. Derek pulled her towards him and without a word pressed his lips to hers. His minty taste filled her mouth and she was so shocked she didn't respond at first. But the first touch of his tongue against hers caused her to wrap her arms around his neck and hold him close.

They began backing towards the bed and both of them fell backwards, Derek on top of her. She clung to him and when he broke away, he touched her face softly. "Thank you for telling me," he murmured in her ear. "I never would have looked Savannah's way if you had told me sooner."

Her heart began to soar and she stroked the back of his neck lightly with the tips of her fingers. "I love you, Derek," she whispered, looking happily into his dark eyes.

He kissed her tenderly in reply. "And I love you, Penelope," he said, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

As she lay in Derek's arms that night, Penelope looked up to the dark ceiling and thanked Tiffany Maxwell, wherever she may have been. She had no idea if she would ever see her again, but she would always remember everything she had told her.

She would always remember to see the signs for what they were.


End file.
